


Not Hate

by mellifluouswords



Category: Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Bruce Wayne, M/M, Mind Control, Wally West is cheeky af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 10:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellifluouswords/pseuds/mellifluouswords
Summary: ' “The power of love is not going to save Superman from mind control,” Bruce growled at Wally.“Well, have you tried? Because right now, we’re kind of getting our asses handed to us and we’re out of options--HEADS!” '~OrThe one time Wally West was right.





	Not Hate

“The power of _love_ is not going to save Superman from mind control,” Bruce growled at Wally.

“Well, have you _tried_? Because right now, we’re kind of getting our asses handed to us and we’re out of options— _HEADS_!” The Flash speeded out of the way as Superman picked up a bus and hurled it at him. While he may have missed speedster, a portion of the vehicle broke off and crashed right into Wonder Woman.

Bruce grit his teeth, a hand unconsciously going to his utility belt where he had a spare piece of kryptonite hidden in a lead-lined case. If he could get close enough to the possessed Superman, he could—

“ _BATS_!”

A blur of red and yellow was all the warning Bruce got before he was pushed off the ledge he was perched on. By the time Bruce landed nimbly on his feet, the Flash was shot into the building by familiar high-lasered beams.

“Flash!” Green Lantern cried. He had just pulled Diana out from the remains of the bus, but he quickly flew toward the unmoving man only to get encased in a whirlwind of frost and ice. Luckily, Martian Man caught the falling hero before he plummeted to the concrete.

“Get them to safety, Martian Man!” Diana yelled. With an imperceptible nod, J’onn didn’t hesitate to scoop up their injured teammates and return them to the Watchtower for Leslie to look over.

“Batman, please, the notion seems incredulous, but if there’s even a chance—” Wonder Woman faltered before beginning once more. “Love—do not frown at me like so, Bruce, what you two share is indeed love—it has the capability to do inconceivable things, and Kryptonite should be the last resort, not the next. I know you, Bruce, and while you may think it reasonable to pull that out next, I want to prevent any harm that may come toward our fellow teammate. He would understand, of course, but is it really worth risking Clark's safety? ”

With more than half his team out of commission, the Trinity of heroes stood alone in the rubbles of downtown Metropolis. Diana was clutching on to her right leg, which has been pierced from the debris of the car and now had blood steadily flowing from it.

A sigh escaped him. If this foolish plan did work the world would no longer be faced with the wrath a powerful, mind-controlled alien. However, Bruce would also deal with a severe undermining of his intimidating reputation when the rest of League got wind of this and taunted him for the next few months. As much as it pained Bruce to admit it, Diana did have a point. While he was able to compartmentalize his feelings and shove them to the back of his mind during a fight—willing to risk anything to protect his city and world—Clark was a highly emotional being. He understood why Batman kept Kryptonite on him at all times, but knowing Bruce’s contingency plan was different from actually living through it. Clark would never say it out loud, but Bruce had known him long enough, and well enough, to know that this would be a sore spot for Clark for the unforeseeable future. And -

And Bruce didn’t want to see the glimmer of hurt in Clark’s eyes after he found out exactly what he’d done to stop him. He didn’t want to see Clark hesitate with his easy smiles and his contagious laughter afterward, for them to grow distant after they finally pulled their heads of their asses and revealed their lov-- _not hate_ for each other. Bruce didn’t want to go back to sleeping alone—he’d grown used to having an exceptionally clingy alien stealing his blankets in the middle of the night, which still made no sense to Bruce considering the fact that Clark’s core temperature ran naturally high, it must be a human habit he had picked up, but from _who_ —

Bruce growled at the thought, his possessive streak no surprise to him. He refocused at the situation at hand, his jaw clenching, fingers itching towards his belt again. But, his hands squeezed into tight fists and he swore softly, dropping them. He didn’t want to hurt him. No matter how temporarily, or for what cause.

Bruce inwardly scoffed. _So much for compartmentalization_. He sighed once more. _Jesus Christ, the things I do for this idiot_.

“Superman.” Bruce didn’t need to yell. The Man of Steel turned flaming red eyes from the building he’d been lasering down to where Bruce stood in the middle of a wrecked road. As soon as his gaze was fixed on him, Bruce pulled his cowl back. “Clark.”

The red haze of Superman’s eyes gradually dimmed until Bruce found himself looking into a pair of rather glazed, but non-murderous, electric blue eyes. Bruce swallowed. Held one hand out. “Clark...please.”

Superman drifted to a stop a few meters away from, his expression one of conflict and confusion. Bruce grit his teeth, aware that Diana was watching their encounter with bated breath. He sighed, pushing his free hand through his hair and thrust his other hand out farther. “Kal, _sweetheart_ , come here.”

All at once the glaze from his eyes vanished and keen blue orbs were narrowing as Clark’s face scrunched up in pain. “ _Bruce_.”

Fuck, but Clark had _whimpered_ and, and Bruce, Bruce couldn’t do it anymore; he had known Superman hated losing control, but he must have remembered or been somewhat conscious during the fight to have that expression full guilt and anguish -

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Bruce consoled, eyes softening. Clark was frozen in his spot, probably thinking he was undeserving of any kind of comfort or care after what he had just done. Bruce wanted to roll his eyes at the martyr but refrained only because Clark would take it the wrong way and fly off like a skittish coal. “Now _come_.”

Luckily, Bruce had experienced being on the receiving end of a hug from a two-hundred-fifty pound Kryptonian before and he knew to brace himself when Clark quite literally shot into his arms.

“ _Bruce_.” Clark began muttering a litany of apologies right into his shoulder, his broken voice breaking his heart and clearing any lingering self-consciousness. Bruce wrapped a steadying arm around the broad back of his lover, rubbing soothing circles into his tense body.

He bent his head so his mouth was level with Clark’s ear, though he could have easily heard his whisper from miles away. “Darling, don’t worry, you’re okay. Everyone’s fine. A bit banged up, but nothing they can’t handle. You seemed to be subconsciously aiming for the smaller, empty buildings. No civilian casualties or injuries. I don’t know what the hell Ivy was planning to use you for, but you didn’t do it, alright? Given how stubborn you are, you were probably fighting against her control the entire time, so stop being so hard on yourself.” Bruce couldn’t remember a time he had ever said so much in one go as Batman, but he refused to stop until Clark returned to him. Until he stopped feeling so guilty for something so out of his control. He made a note to make Poison Ivy pay for this later, and not just with extra time locked up in Arkham's maximum security.

Bruce huffed when Clark didn't yield and remained with his face pressed into the crook of Bruce's neck. “You’re gonna implode with the amount of guilt you’re carrying, sweetheart, and there’s only enough room for one self-deprecating caped crusader on this team.” He paused, listening to Clark scoff at his last comment. Bruce’s lips quirked up in pride at having successfully getting a more or less amused reaction out of the man. As Clark slowly regained control of his rapid breathing, Bruce placed a soft kiss into his hair, murmuring, “Don’t worry, darling, everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” 

* * *

 

At the next JL meeting, Superman abandoned his usual seat in favor of Bruce’s lap. Before Wally could even open his mouth, however, the Batman snarled, “Mention it even once, Flash, and I’ll make your superhero and civilian personas living _hells_.”

Wally wisely shut his grinning mouth, but the gleam in his eye didn't dim for even one second. Batman may have just violently threatened his live(s), but Wally was excellently observant when the time called for it (mostly when a nocturnal, emotionally constipated superhero was involved).

Despite how Batman had tensed when the rest of the JL members filed in and gaped at the couple (after doing a quick double take, J’onn and Diana excluded), not once throughout the entire meeting did Bruce pull his hand away from where it lay entangled with Clark’s.

**Author's Note:**

> What's poppin'!!! This is my first ever fanfic posted on here, but I'd love to know what you guys think!!! Were the characters too OOC? Was the story too rushed, or too slow? Let me know in the comments down below ;) (he he, that rhymed).
> 
> Much Love,  
> MW


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